VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

37

They came three days later.

Relentless torrrents of rain battered the castle's worn stone walls, quiet only in comparison to the occasional peal of thunder that rolled across the city. When the messenger came to tell them, his hair was rain-slicked, clothes soaked through. Every breath was a shuddering search for air.

War ships. On the horizon.

As soon as the messenger left, Ainsley reached for Gael's hands. The two stood in the sleeping quarters they had called home for the last few days, in front of the tall, arched window that displayed a view of the ghost streets beyond.

Gael took her by the shoulders and pulled her in close, burying her face in her neck. Ainsley felt her breaths ruffle her hair.

"Mirali?" She asked, voice low. "Mavis?"

"Safe. They left the city a while ago."

Ainsley nodded and wrapped her arms around Gael's waist, listening to the way her heart thumped when she rested her head on her collarbone.

"We need to go."

Ainsley nodded again. "I know."

Even so, they lingered there for several moments longer, listening to the rolling crashes of thunder, burying their hands in each other's clothes and hair. Ainsley, who was not religious by any means, prayed to the long-dead titans of victory and conquest and love.

—

The armada consisted of eight towering battleships, decked in metal armour and boasting cannons that would belch fire and smoke as soon as they came in range of the city. Ainsley stood atop the castle walls, with Gael on one side and Luca and Nathe and the captain of the guard on the other. In the courtyard below, soldiers prepared, chain mail glinting dully in the sheets of rain. The air hummed with apprehension. The electricity from the flashes of lightning that lit up the undersides of the clouds seemed to have stayed caught in the air, buzzing and making Ainsley's hair stand on end.

Worse than the fleet of ships were the shapes that swirled in the sky above them, faroff smudges that stirred the dense clouds with their rolling wingbeats and whisking, serpentine tails. Ainsley counted at least thirty dragons, all bigger than any she had encountered before. Her mouth was dry, and squeezing Gael's hand didn't stop the trembling.

No matter the result, what happened here would change everything.

The city could never stand in the way of such a force. If Ainsley couldn't end it here, the rest of Fortra would fall.

The dragons came first as the ships advanced, blurred figures in the rain, wingbeats rustling over the constant hum of water against stone. Then they were shrieking overhead, brushing against church spires and sending the tallest buildings crashing to the ground under their weight. The wet stone rumbled beneath them and the captain ushered them off of the wall. Around them, soldiers were mounting horses and then rushing off, hoofbeats clattering against the courtyard stone as they hurried dutifully to face their foe.

It wasn't fair. Humans shouldn't have had to fight dragons.

Nathe had retrieved a pistol from his belt. He turned to Gael, pulled her into his arms, and let her hold on to him for a moment, fingers clutching desperately at his jacket. Ainsley's heart ached at the sight of her rain-wet expression, water dripping off of Gael's lashes as she released him. The pirate gave Ainsley a nod and a warm handshake, and she clutched at his arm.

"Thank you, Nathe. For everything."

"We'll see you on the other side, princess."

She drew Luca in for a hug, then let the two follow the captain after the soldiers, who had disappeared into the misty city streets.